


Ice Queeniness and Paranoid Mac-and-Cheese

by fabfemmeboy



Series: Sincere Baked Goods [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 19:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13037523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabfemmeboy/pseuds/fabfemmeboy
Summary: Puck's duet with Kurt, as promised, isn't entirely without consequences.





	1. Ice Queeniness and Paranoid Mac-and-Cheese

Puck's not-so-triumphant return to McKinley on Monday mostly consisted of a lot of teachers bitching at him that he'd missed so long, the people who halfway liked him asking what the hell he was thinking pulling the stunt in the first place, and a lot of trying not to notice Quinn and Sam looking all lovey-dovey while they walked in the hallways. They weren't quite to the point of holding hands everywhere they went, but he'd seen Quinn look like this over Finn - get all giggly when he said things that weren't all that funny, touch his shoulder with those long slim fingers of hers, go all doe-eyed on him at random moments...and not like he knew Sam that well, but any moron could tell he liked her. A lot.   
  
Not like he was jealous or anything.  
  
So he did the next logical thing - he stalked his way over to Kurt's locker. "Hey."  
  
Kurt blinked up at him and drew in what seemed like a nervous breath. "Hello."  
  
"Sup?"  
  
"I'm going to lunch." Kurt replied, like he couldn't figure out what in the world Puck was doing near his locker and how many ways it was going to screw him.  
  
"I'll go with you."  
  
Kurt blinked, then reached into his locker to pull out a big hideous sweater. "Okay."  
  
"What's with the muppet?" Puck asked, referring to the furry-necked apparel.  
  
"Look, I get it - you've gotta do what you've gotta do. But I'm going to be prepared and I'm not going to let the fact that you're-...I'm not going to let a few nice evenings ruin my favourite new shirt." He only wished he still had his clear raincoat in there, but it was too long to fit in the locker properly. Oh well - the pants would survive with some dry-cleaning, he supposed.  
  
He wasn't sure how to reconcile the fact that he'd worn his favourite new shirt on a day he knew he'd be getting hassled. After all, Puck needed to resume his status as top dog at McKinley, and there was a chance that someone had caught wind of the fact that he'd left Puck's at an ungodly hour of the morning or something; ending up in the dumpster was a foregone conclusion, and in all likelihood there would be more than a few slushies coming his way. For all Puck's "I don't give a shit" attitude, he was easily pressured by the social moraes of the school.   
  
He didn't want to admit that he'd worn the shirt he knew brought out his eyes and made him look just a little rosier because it might get him some favourable attention as well. That would just be stupid. As if Puck would ever stand around and make comments about how his eyes looked nice. As if Puck would ever notice in the first place - he was a boy, a teenage straight boy who couldn't figure out the difference between navy and black if his life depended on it and thought wearing the same shirt for a week was a totally valid wardrobe choice.   
  
"Whatever," Puck replied with a shrug...but didn't leave.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked. "Are you going to tell me which dumpster to meet you at, or are you waiting for another of your goons so you can make a big display of carrying me through the halls first?"  
  
"Whatever, dude." He shook his head in a way Kurt couldn't read and strode off down the hall. On the way he sent one of the freshman dweebs into a locker with just the flick of his elbow.  
  
Kurt had no idea how to take that.   
  
He was walking down the hall when it hit him. Puck had wanted to walk him to lunch? Wait-...no. That couldn't be it. That would be well beyond merely being seen with him, that would be bordering on...appearing as friends in public? No, he concluded. He was back to reading into things too much. He'd gotten so used to reading between the lines, trying desperately to find something to hang his hat on, that he'd taken it a few steps too far and now was seriously considering whether Puck -  _Puck!_  - was asking to walk him to lunch.   
  
What next? The next time Puck and his squad of delinquents decided to throw him in the dumpsters and Puck took his school bag, he would interpret that as Puck carrying his books or something?  
  
He'd done this with Finn. He'd seen something when there was nothing and was ultimately the cause of both of Finn's freak-outs for it. Puck...well, obviously there was at least a little more possibility there, but he wasn't going to start deluding himself into believing they had a relationship and  _certainly_  wasn't going to tell himself they had any kind of friendship when within the walls of the school. That would only end in a much larger, far more violent assault than Finn's slur-laced outburst.  
  
He shook his head. "Snap out of it," he commanded himself quietly. With a deep breath, he pulled himself together into his most icy, show-no-weakness pose and strutted down the hallway with confidence despite wearing a sweater even he found hideous.  
  
Arriving in the cafeteria, Puck was none too pleased to discover his regular lunch seat had been taken while he was gone by the same blond who had taken his ex-girlfriend. He glanced around for an empty seat and, seeing none anywhere he'd want to be, he decided on a more direct approach. He walked purposefully over to the table. "S'my seat."  
  
Sam stopped in the middle of some lame impression and grinned up at him. "Hey. You're back."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Pull up a seat, dude," Finn said enthusiastically. "When'd you get out?"  
  
"Friday." He kicked a chair over from the next table even though some guy in an argyle sweater vest was about to sit down in it. Served the dweeb right.   
  
"You should've come out with us after the game," Finn said.   
  
"You guys win?" Puck asked, and as Finn and Sam started tagteaming the play-by-play, he found his eyes scanning the cafeteria. Kurt was hard to miss, still wearing that fuzzy thing around his neck. He watched as Kurt picked through the options as though he was trying to find something healthy or something - in this lunchroom, not likely. He'd managed to forget just how prissy and uptight the guy was; Kurt wasn't like that on Friday. He was...kinda okay. Still awkward, and with a lot of jokes and quotes and shit Puck didn't get because they were from really gay movies, but Kurt wasn't so bad to hang out with, talk about music with or whatever. But at school he had the whole ice queen thing going; if Puck wanted that, he'd hang out with Santana.  
  
He watched as Kurt walked from the lunch line over to his usual table towards the side of the room and took a seat by Mercedes. Tina and Mike were over there, too, and Artie who just kept kind of staring at Tina.   
  
"You should've been there," Sam finished, laughing about something that had happened at the post-game dinner. Even though he hadn't been paying attention, Puck doubted that the midnight gathering at IHOP - as much fun as those could be sometimes - was anywhere near as good as his Friday night. For one thing, in all his years eating breakfast in the middle of the night, it had never led to a blowjob.  
  
"Yeah, dude, where were you?" Finn asked. "Santana come over or something?"  
  
"Makeup assignment," Puck replied cryptically.  
  
"You weren't even back in school yet," Finn laughed.  
  
"How'd you know what assignments you had?" Sam asked.   
  
"Just glee - I'm making up the duets thing."  
  
"Really?" Sam asked. "With who?"  
  
"Kurt," Puck replied as he shoveled a forkfull of macaroni and cheese into his mouth. It sucked, but it was better than anything he'd had in juvie.  
  
"No, really, dude," Finn said. When Puck looked up at him, his eyes widened. "Wait - did he ask you to-"  
  
"What the hell's your problem?"  
  
"I don't believe him. I told him to back off and leave Sam alone, so he goes and asks you-"  
  
"I asked him," Puck replied in an 'I could kick your ass so don't push it' tone. He wanted to tell Finn how fucked-up it was to tell Kurt any of that shit in the first place, but the day was long and annoying enough already.  
  
"Why would you do that?" Finn asked nervously.  
  
He'd thought maybe Kurt was exaggerating about what Finn had said, that maybe he was taking it the wrong way or something. After all, he'd been best friends with Finn since they were 4 and Finn - while not nearly as perfect as everyone thought - was usually more of a cowardly follower than an active jackass. Without a jerk to follow, he kinda wandered around like a middle-aged labrador. But the way Finn asked about the duet and how pissed he sounded at Kurt...yeah, Puck decided, Kurt was probably low-balling it.  
  
"Cause I could," Puck stated firmly. He shoved down the rest of his lunch in a few bites and got up, tossing his tray away. What he needed was to put a loser in his place - that always made him feel better.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Kurt knew leaving an extra seat empty was a stupid idea.  
  
Well, if Puck happened to want to huddle for a minute - had he just used a football term? There might be serious disadvantages to messing around with jock - before they performed their duet, it would be useful to have somewhere to do it, right? It wasn't like there were only twelve chairs in the room or anything, which would force Puck to sit next to him in what  _some_  people might consider a move just this side of entrapment. This was more...leaving options open.  
  
Puck breezed in exactly ten seconds before rehearsal was meant to begin and sat off to the side, nowhere near Kurt. Didn't even look in his direction, really.  
  
Mr. Schue walked in and set a stack of music on top of the piano. "Okay, guys, let's get started. First, back from his brief stint in juvie...let's welcome back Puck," he smiled, clapping. The rest of the club responded with varying amounts of enthusiasm, but it was definitely only a warm welcome from Brittany and Sam. Finn was still annoyed from lunch, Quinn was looking at him like he was a moron, Santana was feigning ambivalence, and Kurt...  
  
Well, he didn't really know what he was meant to display at this point. How he was meant to feel, even. He'd gone from feeling really good when he left at dawn on Saturday, to spending all day Sunday assuming he would be thrown in a dumpster first thing Monday, to wondering why the hell Puck wanted to walk him to lunch. So did that mean they  _were_  kind of friends? Was there a word for friends with benefits who weren't actually friends? A recurrent fuck-buddy who wasn't your buddy?  
  
"Second-"  
  
"Mr. Schue?" Puck spoke up. "I know I've gotta make up stuff I missed or whatever, and you guys did a duets assignment while I was out."  
  
"Yeah, but don't worry about it-"  
  
"I'd like to do mine now."  
  
Mr. Schue looked confused. "Who are you going to duet with?" he asked.  
  
"Kurt and I worked something up," Puck said as he stood and strode to retrieve his guitar.  
  
Mercedes nudged Kurt and gave him an "And why didn't you tell me this?" look. He shrugged and stood, walking over to the piano.  
  
"Okay," Mr. Schue replied. He was still clearly a little confused, but added, "Take it away."  
  
"Since it's a duet, I thought I'd pick a song by  _two_  Jewish musical geniuses." Puck looped the guitar strap over his head and began to pluck out the opening notes of "Sound of Silence."  
  
Yeah, it was kind of an odd choice for them, but it had a few things going for them. First and foremost, it was one of the only songs they didn't actively disagree on. Second, the ranges matched up pretty well without much modification. Third, both of them liked anything involving Puck and a guitar.  
  
But mostly it just kind of made sense. Empty, silent houses were their thing now.  
  
_Hello darkness, my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again  
Because a vision softly creeping  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,  
And the vision that was planted in my brain  
Still remains  
Within the sound of silence._  
  
Puck nodded to the band to come in on the second verse - well, for the bass and drums to come in. He'd tried to teach Kurt to play the bass part around 4 a.m. - it wasn't that hard or anything, but Kurt somehow had no skill for string instruments. His hands were kind of square and his fingers kind of clumsy and next thing they knew, Puck was literally laughing aloud at his horrible attempt.   
  
It wasn't a sound Kurt ever thought he'd hear. He would've sworn Puck just  _didn't_  laugh...and it had sort of made him want to suck at playing more instruments to get the reaction again.  
  
_In restless dreams I walked alone  
Narrow streets of cobblestone  
'Neath the halo of a streetlamp  
I turned my collar to the cold and damp  
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light  
That split the night  
And touched the sound of silence.  
  
And in the naked light I saw  
Ten thousand people, maybe more:  
People talking without speaking,  
People hearing without listening,  
People writing songs that voices never shared  
And no one dared  
Disturb the sound of silence._  
  
He worried he was watching Puck too much while they sang. He couldn't help it - it wasn't a sign he was in love with him or anything, it was just that Puck's natural charisma got exponentially stronger when he sang. Add in the guitar, and the tshirt that hugged his biceps in a really great way that Kurt could about guarantee was unintentional on Puck's part, and he was kind of a goner. But Puck was...smiling at him. That meant he didn't mind, right?  
  
Well...either that, or Puck was pissed at Finn and making a point. From the amount Puck was singing pointedly in Finn's direction, it was kind of hard to tell.  
  
_"Fool," said I, "You do not know,  
Silence like a cancer grows.  
Hear my words that I might teach you.  
Take my arms that I might reach you."  
But my words like silent raindrops fell  
And echoed in the wells of silence.  
  
And the people bowed and prayed  
To the neon god they made  
And the sign flashed out its warning  
In the words that it was forming._  
  
Was the Finn and Puck thing over the Cheesus? Kurt doubted it, if only because he could about guarantee Finn had mostly forgotten about it in the last month and, while Puck could hold a grudge, he didn't think it rose to the level of glares and glowers being aimed at the tall quarterback.  
  
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls  
And tenement halls  
And whispered in the sounds of silence." </i>  
  
Puck flashed him a cocky grin as they reached the last note and he played the last few measures of guitar solo, and Kurt was proud of himself for managing to keep himself tightly together and look like the bad-boy-with-a-heart-of-gold thing didn't matter to him. And when he returned to his seat, he managed to look like he didn't notice the look Mercedes was giving him, either.  
  
That, oddly, took more work. Damn was she persistent.  
  
When the bell rang to signal they needed to leave the choir room and go on to the rest of their classes, Puck was one of the first to leave but Finn caught up with him easily. "Dude, that was a really bad idea."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Singing with Kurt like that." Finn was whispering like he was afraid people would hear.   
  
"You've sung  _to_  him," Puck replied with a snort.  
  
"Yeah, and no one knows about that except the people who get it. I'm saying...if people outside the club find out about the duet, if they see you-"  
  
"It's just a song, dude, what's your problem?"  
  
"My problem is, I've been the guy he's done this to before." He put his hand on Puck's shoulder in the straightest way possible, and the concern in his eyes made Puck kind of want to heave. The dude really was that paranoid, wasn't he? "Look, I saw the way he was looking at you when you sang. He just...he doesn't know when to back off and stuff. He's okay sometimes, but if he gets in his head that he likes you, it's like nothing you do gets him to leave you alone unless you do something really bad that gets you thrown out of his the house by his dad." Puck still wasn't sure what that was about, but he wasn't asking. I don't want you to have to deal with that stuff too, it really sucks. He tried it with Sam, too, but I put a stop to that."  
  
"You mean like people tried to stop you from obsessing over Rachel when she was dating Jesse?" Puck asked.  
  
Finn blinked, obviously not sure what to say to that. "She wasn't-"  
  
"Dude, you stared at her for months. You tried to get her to dump the guy for you. I mean, he was a total douche and everything, but still."  
  
"It's different."  
  
"You mean 'cause Kurt's a dude."  
  
"Cause he's a gay dude who doesn't exactly try to hide any of that stuff from the guys around here. And I'm not saying he should have to or anything, but as long as we're in their world - Azimio and Karofsky got a lot worse when I was moving in with him, and I'm just telling you to look out."  
  
"Thanks," Puck replied sarcastically. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
"What's your problem, dude?" Finn asked.  
  
"My  _problem_  is you going around talking about how Kurt won't stay out of your business, then trying to tell guys he's so gay and gross we can't be in the same room with him without getting shit for it. He's not chasing you anymore, what the fuck do you care who he looks at?"  
  
"Y-you knew?" Finn asked.  
  
"Course I knew. Course he looked. I'm a stud, who wouldn't?" Puck stated cockily.   
  
"I'm gonna talk to him," Finn declared.  
  
Puck shoved him. "Leave him the fuck alone."  
  
Finn shoved back. "What the hell?"  
  
"I said leave him alone. You trying to tell him who he can look at, trying to tell other guys to stay away from him? That's way more gay than he is."  
  
Finn's swing was wild and didn't come close to connecting with Puck's jaw; Puck's swing in return, on the other hand, landed square on Finn's cheek. If he'd really been aiming, it would have hit somewhere more useful but this was more of a self-defense shot than anything purposeful.  
  
Sometime during the ensuing grappling match, a crowd began to gather. Everyone from the glee club had an up-close and personal view, since they had been closest when it began, but no one had heard what started it.  
  
Except Kurt, who had caught snippets here and there.  
  
Not even in his deepest, darkest, most secret fantasies had he imagined two boys fighting over him. That was purely Quinn's domain, and apparently Rachel's for reasons passing understanding. He stood on the sidelines, somehow ending up at the front of the circle that formed quickly around Puck and Finn as they went after each other. It made him feel kind of like a damsel in distress, which wasn't inherently a bad feeling but did make him wish he had a handkerchief on him to wave in their general direction.  
  
Until he remembered they weren't actually fighting  _over_  him, they were fighting  _about_  him and whether his mere existence had enough power to leech away a person's entire social clout.   
  
He turned away and forced his way back through the crowd, out of the circle, into the mostly-empty portion of the hall. His head was spinning. Maybe his father had been right - he had no right to ask someone who wasn't already out-and-proud to be seen walking hand-in-hand with him. After all, he was used to people giving him a hard time. Puck was used to being top dog, and if anyone else happened to actually listen to the fight instead of just cheering for the disgusting display of machismo, it would be barely ten minutes before Jacob ben Israel let the whole school know the details of Noah Puckerman's latest conquest. And then...  
  
...then the hell would  _really_  start.  
  
He wanted a boyfriend, and there was no way he was going back in the closet or going to try to pass himself off as some asexual eunuch gay to make people like him better. But maybe his dad had a point about it not being fair to force himself, to force his life and all that entailed, on an unsuspecting straight guy.  
  
No matter how good the sex was.  
  
"Hey!" Mr. Schue's voice cut through the din. Good thing he was breaking it up instead of Figgins, Puck thought ruefully. Otherwise he'd end up suspended or back in lock-up for violating probation or some shit like that, and Finn would get off scott free as usual. At least this way they'd both get off with a lecture and a bunch of questions neither of them felt like answering. He was used to that, especially after the stupid therapy crap they made him do in juvie. Schue said some bull about how they were best friends and shouldn't be fighting and they needed to meet him in his office after school. Whatever. He kept his eye-rolling and sarcastic eyebrow movements to a minimum, which he thought was a pretty big accomplishment all things considered, then walked through the now-dispersing crowd.  
  
Kurt had been nearby when everything started, he thought. They'd just come out of glee when it happened, and everyone else was there, but there was no sign of a ridiculous outfit or a stupid hat anywhere.  
  
Mercedes was the only one who got it. Well...okay, from the look on her face, she didn't  _get_  it, she looked confused as hell, but she knew enough to point him the right direction without him having to ask where the guy disappeared to.   
  
Kurt's locker wasn't that far away from it all, it wasn't hard to find him there. "Hey," Puck said. Kurt didn't look at him or respond, just kind of raised his eyebrows in Puck's general direction. "What?"  
  
"You came over here," Kurt pointed out shortly.  
  
"Whatever. I was going to say Finn was being an ass, but if you're just going to be a bitch about it," Puck said as he started to walk away.  
  
"He's an ass, but he was right," Kurt replied. When Puck looked back at him like he was out of his mind, Kurt added, "Like it or not, my reputation preceded me by nearly a decade - everyone has known exactly what I am since they met me. I know where I rest on the social ladder here, and I don't care. But you do. Being the Head He-Bitch In Charge is important to you, and let's face it - people hear about us singing together, or they see us walking down the hall..."  
  
"Why do you still listen to him so much? When you were drooling all over him, okay, whatever. But you know he's an ass and you still care what he thinks? That's stupid and fucked-up."  
  
"It's not just Finn who has a problem with it. Look around - we're in Ohio. As much as I would love to be anywhere else," he added cattily. If he could just get back to behind his mask, back to how he usually was at school, then maybe it wouldn't be so hard to resist grabbing Puck and kissing him. The guy was -...sweet was the wrong word, and Kurt knew Puck would probably kill him for even thinking it, but he was...nice. And protective, which was refreshing and confusing all at once. But Puck had no idea what he was proposing getting himself into. "So I'm setting you free. Go get Quinn back if you want - she still has eyes for you, even if she and Sam are kind of the perfect posterchildren for the proposition that a true blonde and a fake one can still make things work." He closed his locker and walked down the hall, leaving a dumbstruck Puck in his wake.  
  
* * * * *  
  
When first period came and went without any sign of a mohawk near his locker, he convinced himself he'd done the right thing. Dinner the night before had been more than awkward enough - Finn with his bruised cheek and all. He would admit it came from Puck but wouldn't say why, which led to a slew of choice words from Carole about the boy she had once considered family. Kurt could understand being mad at someone who hurt her son and everything, but seeing as how Quinn was the one who lied about the pregnancy over Puck's objections he felt like maybe it wasn't fair to hold the entire thing against the guy just because he'd screwed up initially.   
  
He could only imagine what hell would rain down on both of them if Finn found out why Puck had defended his honour. It was awkward enough watching Finn try not to bring up the duet and how disgusting he thought it was.  
  
No. This was for the best, he concluded. Now Puck could go back to his former glory, and he could go back to being exactly who he was, though with the knowledge that he wasn't going to die a virgin. That had to be worth something, right?  
  
When second period came and went without a word, he wondered where precisely Puck was, since usually at least they'd pass each other or something by now. Considering the last time things had left off badly between the two of them Puck had ended up arrested, he thought his concern over the guy's whereabouts were perfectly valid.  
  
And not at all about wanting to see him. Just not wanting him to be stuck in that detention center until he was 18.  
  
When Santana smirked in his direction during third period, he found himself trying to decide whether it was because she and Puck had hooked up again or if it just meant she'd screwed half the Cheerios squad and wanted to include him in her gloating.   
  
By the time lunch rolled around with still no sign of him, Kurt had come to the only logical conclusion: Puck had screwed Santana then gone on a crime spree.  
  
He shoved his books into his locker and turned around to see a large white plastic cup near his face. He inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the sensation best described as being bitch-slapped by an iceberg.  
  
The iceberg never came.  
  
After a few seconds, he hesitantly opened one eye, and a quirked dark eyebrow came into focus. Then a brown eye. Then a strip of hair. He opened both eyes to reveal Puck standing calmly in front of him, cup in one hand, wrapped straw in the other. "Well?"  
  
"It's diet soda. Figured you'd whine about the calories or whatever." Puck expected to get one of those kind of borderline-sickening 'you're so sweet, you so love me' looks he'd gotten from Kurt on Friday, but instead Kurt reached out slowly, distrustfully, to take the drink.  
  
He took a sip. "Can hardly taste the poison," he said dryly. His eyes were still narrow, skeptical, as though trying to figure out what the trick was.  
  
What was the guy's problem? Puck wondered. Dude, wait - was Kurt even more fucked up than he was? That was just wrong.  
  
He didn't want to think about what role he'd played in that one. He knew it kind of made sense that the guy didn't trust him or something, but at the same time even Rachel and Artie trusted him more than this, and he'd tortured them every bit as much as he harassed Kurt - back when he did those things, which he didn't anymore. Besides, he thought defending Kurt the day before should've made him  _less_  paranoid about the whole dumpster thing, not more.  
  
Maybe the gesture alone wasn't working. When he'd dated Rachel for all of like ten minutes, she'd talked about how important it was to a girl that a guy express his feelings. He knew Kurt wasn't a girl in most ways, but there were some things where he was enough  _like_  a girl...maybe he needed the talking shit, too.   
  
Puck jammed his hands in his pockets. "Look, I don't do flowers or whatever."  
  
"What?" Kurt asked. The change in Puck wasn't isolated to his posture - it was like his entire demeanor was softer somehow. Almost uncertain. The way he looked kind of down instead of staring like he was going to kick some ass, the less-harsh tone of voice...Kurt swore he'd seen it before but couldn't remember what the circumstances were. He hadn't really known Puck as a kid so it wasn't that, it wasn't quite the same as Puck around his sister, he hadn't seen much of Puck around when Beth was born-  
  
That's when it was, Kurt realized. Puck looked like when he'd talked to Quinn and sung "Beth." He only really remembered because he'd been trying desperately to look anywhere but at Finn, which left staring at Puck, but that wasn't the point.  
  
No. That didn't make any sense.   
  
"I don't do flowers and dances and stuff like that. This is kinda it, okay?"  
  
Was this Puck's way of saying- Kurt didn't even know how to finish that question but knew the answer had to be no. "Okay," he said slowly.  
  
"If I know what I'm getting into, you need to, too. And I don't do flowers."   
  
"Neither do I."  
  
"I screw around with a lot of people," Puck stated unapologetically. While his hot-streak season was over now that summer had passed, he wasn't going to act like he ever was having sex with only one person in a given week if he could help it. He was a slut, but he was for damn sure an honest slut.  
  
"I've heard - what was it you said to Mercedes? Sex shark?" Kurt asked dryly.  
  
"Yeah. You can't tie me down."  
  
Kurt felt like that should be a deal-breaker, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. More like he couldn't bring himself to mean it. The manwhorishness was a big part of who Puck  _was_ , and if he wanted to use a very strange analogy, he could almost say it was like Puck trying to say he needed to be less out than he was. Either way it was about denying a part of yourself, right?  
  
No relationship was going to be perfect - assuming that's what any of this meant and his use of the word 'relationship' wouldn't be automatic grounds for Puck never speaking to him again. Everything was about deciding what a person could or couldn't live with. While having Puck to himself would've been nice...all things considered, he was willing to trade that for what else he appeared to be getting. Puck being seen being nice to him was more than he figured he had any right to ask for, and while Puck said he didn't do dances Kurt suspected he might be movable on that topic. Besides, when Puck said 'a lot of people,' Kurt knew the number one culprit was Santana, and she had to find time to have sex with Brittany sometime, right?  
  
"I'm not going to fight Santana for you," he stated firmly. That much was a dealbreaker. "Whatever you do, you do, but I'm not about to get into a brawl with her in the middle of the hallway." He thought he could reasonably predict himself a winner in that fight if he were willing to fight her, but his father had taught him too well not to hit a girl...and while he didn't hit anyone, he assumed the rule extended to no-hair-pulling as well.  
  
"Fine." He would take care of Santana - he knew how to get to her better than anyone except probably Brittany.   
  
"Don't start getting any ideas about threesomes, either, or more. I'm gold-star," Kurt added.   
  
"Huh?"  
  
"No girls."  
  
"We'll see," Puck replied. After all, he'd always said no guys and look how that was turning out.  
  
"Okay," Kurt replied. They would absolutely not see, he had no interest in being in the same room as a naked girl for anything other than getting dressed fro Cheerios, but that was a fight for later.  
  
"And I don't do this talking thing a lot. I mean, I put it all out there, I say what I think, but-"  
  
"I know," Kurt confirmed, cutting him off so he didn't have to try to finish the sentence. It was already more than Puck would usually string together in a conversation with a lot more openness than either one of them seemed to be expecting. He hesitated, then offered, "I don't either."  
  
"I noticed." As if to spare them any further forced deep conversation, Puck said, "I'm starving." Kurt closed his locker and they walked side-by-side towards the lunchroom.  
  
There was no hand-holding, Kurt concluded, but there would be time to consider that later. It was still early.


	2. I Think We're Alone Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Kurt had often thought he might be part of a hidden relationship, he never in a million years thought he would be the one insisting on secrecy.

Kurt was used to bracing himself at school. He knew how to fall into the dumpster at the least painful angle while still protecting his clothes the best he could. He had gotten good at drawing in a quick deep breath before his head got dunked into the toilet without the swirly-perpetrator noticing. He had long since learned that the correct response to seeing a projectile was to squeeze your eyes shut because everything but water burned (and it was  _never_  just water), and he had gotten so used to the moment before the slushie hit his face that he swore they weren't as cold as they used to be.  
  
  
So when he saw Santana walking down the hall with her biggest 'Don't fucking mess with me' look, he drew in a deep breath and stood up as straight as he could, then put on his very best 'Bitch, please' disinterested expression. "Santana."  
  
  
"Shut it, Paul Lynde." She slammed his locker door and narrowly avoided hitting his fingers - pity. "Back off. my man."  
  
  
"He's not just yours," Kurt pointed out and, though it was against his self-interest to acknowledge, added, "You share him with pretty much every woman in town.   
  
  
If his goal was to piss her off more - which it kind of was - it worked. Her eyes narrowed and her expression turned even more sour. "You think in three months he's even gonna acknowledge you? He's gonna get whatever the hell 'exploration'-" She actually used air quotes, which Kurt found kind of amusing "-out of his system. But you're still gonna be gay, and then  _really_  no one's gonna like you." She gave a smile that she didn't even pretend was genuine. "Because the guys in glee? They're gonna follow him. And the Cheerios? Well, they're gonna follow me. I'm in charge."  
  
  
"Actually you're not. Nice boobs, by the way," he smirked.  
  
  
"You think any of them listen to Quinn anymore? Please. Coach Sylvester's just using her to get funding. They do what  _I_  tell them to, so if I tell them to, I dunno, start tripping you on your way down the center aisle so Coach kicks you off the team? They'd do it. Then it's back to you and the two people at this school who don't think you're a loser. But if you back off now..." She rubbed her hand slowly down his upper-arm. He plucked it off and moved it away, which earned him a glare. He rolled his eyes and walked down the hall. "At least Finn wouldn't know."  
  
  
The problem with being used to bracing for things, he realized, was that when you didn't see something coming you had no idea how to react. Or at least, how to react without looking surprised.  
  
  
He was just glad his back was to her, but even he couldn't deny that she had to have seen his back stiffen, the hesitation followed by speeding up his pace. He could practically feel her smirking behind him.  
  
  
Puck could be a very difficult guy to find when he was trying to hide from teachers who might force him to actually go to class. Kurt finally found him hanging out over by the entrance to the locker room. "Hey."  
  
  
"I need to talk to you."  
  
  
"Okay."  
  
  
"Not here," Kurt stated, casting sideways glances at the variety of guys who could - and would, and in many cases did - kick his ass.   
  
  
Puck gave a 'whatever, dude' look and followed Kurt around the corner to a more secluded area. "Yeah?"  
  
  
"Santana."  
  
  
"What about her?"  
  
  
"You have to call her off," Kurt stated urgently.  
  
  
"You have to relax," Puck replied flippantly. "Yeah, she's kinda a bitch. Whatever. It's not news."  
  
  
"And she'll take down whoever she can if it elevates her. Or even just because she wants to, really," Kurt added. He'd been on Cheerios with her long enough, he'd seen the way she and Quinn fought for titles and status in ways that made "Mean Girls" look downright civilized.   
  
  
"What do you care? If I don't, and it's a lot bigger news about me than about you-"  
  
  
"First of all, it's not just about you. And I know you won't understand that until everyone finds out because you're used to being on the other side of all this but it was never your style. Second, there are at least two good reasons to keep this quiet, but there's a third, even better reason standing right down the hall."   
  
  
Puck followed Kurt's gaze. "When are you gonna stop caring if Finn likes what you're doing? I thought we could agree-"  
  
  
"That he's a jerk, yes. That he's so homoparanoid he makes the guy who killed Larry King look reasonable sometimes, absolutely."  
  
  
"The dude with the suspenders?"  
  
  
Kurt wasn't sure whether to be pleasantly surprised that Puck knew who that was, or annoyed at the interruption. "A kid who was shot in his lunchroom at school by the boy he had a crush on. That's not the point. The point is he has power over me-"  
  
  
Puck didn't want to hear about Kurt's stupid crush anymore. Not like he ever wanted to hear about anyone's stupid crush on Finn, or their wanting to get with Finn, or their freaking fantasy futures where they were married to Finn. "I thought you were over-"  
  
  
"He could tell my dad," Kurt blurted out. When Puck just stared at him, confused, he added, "With our parents dating, he's around all the time, and on all things gay my father apparently now listens to Finn over me - expressly over me. If he starts saying how I-" He looked to see who else might be listening and dropped his voice to a whisper. "-How I 'turned' you or pursued you until you said yes because you didn't know better-"  
  
  
He was starting to understand why Kurt was so fucked-up about all this, but it still didn't make any sense. "Dude, everyone talks about how cool your dad is. How he comes and fights for you and stuff. And you talk about him like he's the most awesome guy ever." Truth be told, he'd been kind of jealous the way Kurt talked about his dad. Not like he'd ever admit that, but when some dude's talking about how his dad can be totally badass by standing up for you and your dad was a badass because he punked out, it kinda hits a nerve.   
  
  
"He is- He was. I don't know. All of that was before the heart attack and the..."  
  
  
"...damage and crap," Puck finished quietly  
  
  
"Right." Kurt's voice was tight; he was not going to get into that here, not when he still had 2/3 of the day to get through. Spending all week sobbing when his father was actually in the hospital and not waking up was one thing, kind of borderline acceptable. Spending a couple classes on the verge of tears because he was afraid his father would insinuate that he was taking advantage of Puck when he'd been so careful to let Puck make all the moves out of fear of doing exactly what he would be accused of - that would just make him even more pathetic than he already was, in the eyes of the student body. He might get into it later, given the right prodding and context, but even that wasn't likely. "Suffice it to say that his initial acceptance has given way to something a little less fully-supportive, and if Finn decides he wants to spill over family dinner, I don't even want to- I really don't need to deal with that right now."  
  
  
In all honesty, he wasn't sure he could  _take_  that right now. Even assuming Puck didn't run for the hills, which he couldn't guarantee just yet, he knew he didn't have the energy for any more intensity right now. It had been a hard enough autumn already.  
  
  
"I'll talk to her."  
  
  
"Do whatever you have to do," Kurt stated, making clear that he knew full well what he was suggesting. Not like that wasn't something Puck was entitled to do just for the fun of it, but sometimes it could be taking care of business in addition to fun.  
  
  
"Bet I can get her out to her car after lunch," he mused, and Kurt held up his hand.  
  
  
"I know what it is you're planning on, and I'm fine with that, but please - don't ever give me details." He walked down the hall towards his class.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
Puck strutted towards Santana's locker. Santana was reapplying her lipgloss, hip thrust out to one side, while Brittany fixed her ponytail. "Hey," he smiled in his most 'You know you want some of this' way. She looked up at him with complete disdain then went back to talking to Brittany. "Santana."  
  
  
"No, come over tonight," she told Brittany, casing a snotty sideways glance at Puck. "I've been kinda craving the taste of your...lipgloss," she added with a flick of her eyebrows.  
  
  
"I think Puck wants to ask you something," Brittany observed flatly.  
  
  
"Yeah?" Her neck bobbed sideways and she tilted her head. "Yeah, no."  
  
  
"What's your problem?" Puck asked.  
  
  
"My  _problem_? Is that you went all Brokeback up in here and decided you'd rather screw him than have this," she said, raised index finger gesturing.   
  
  
"What? I'd let you watch."  
  
  
"Ew."  
  
  
"That'd be hot," Brittany stated. "Do you like his soft baby hands?" Even though Santana looked at her like she was crazy, she added, "He's a really nice boyfriend."  
  
  
Well, Puck thought sarcastically, as long as  _Brittany_  approved, that was all they needed, right?   
  
  
"Until you stop opening his ass, my legs are staying closed - to you," Santana added with a deliberately sexy look at Brittany that was entirely for Puck's benefit.  
  
  
If there was one thing Puck didn't like, it was people trying to tell him what the fuck to do. Didn't matter what it was or why - if someone attempted to get him to do whatever it was they wanted, his first instinct was to do the opposite. That went double if someone tried to manipulate him into it instead of demanding outright.  
  
  
So he decided to call her bluff. With a shrug and his best disinterested expression, he replied "Okay."  
  
  
Her eyes widened then quickly narrowed to a glare that he knew would be accompanied by a pissed-off neck roll. He never knew Latin girls could do those til he met Santana, and hers was totally better than Mercedes'. She slammed her locker door and stepped up close to him like she was seriously stupid enough to contemplate trying to fight him, then walked away - her ass swaying deliberately so he'd see what he was missing.   
  
  
"He likes duck fat," Brittany informed Puck...helpfully? ...before scampering after Santana.  
  
  
Puck shrugged and walked down the hall towards his next class. She'd come crawling back in...three days? Maybe five if she was really pissed and found another guy to screw in the meantime. Whatever.   
  
  
He didn't know when Kurt had learned his schedule or whatever, but when he came out of his classroom Kurt practically pounced on him. "Well?" he asked tightly.  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"Is she-"  
  
  
"Whatever. She's Santana."  
  
  
"So it didn't go well, I take it?" Kurt had one arm across his chest, the other belt at the elbow while he examined his nails.  
  
  
"She'll cave. She always does."  
  
  
"Doesn't do us much good in the meantime." Kurt let out a soft sigh. "Too late to do anything about it now, I suppose. Rien de rien, non, je ne regrette rien."  
  
  
Puck stared at him. "English, dude."  
  
  
"It's Edith Piaf." When Puck's blank look didn't change, Kurt tried to explain. "The famous chanteuse? La Mome Piaf? Little Sparrow? "La Vie En Rose"? ...Nothing?"  
  
  
"You want me to start throwing out football terms or something?" Puck threatened.  
  
  
Kurt instead started explaining. "She was a French singer shortly before World War II. She was discovered in a nightclub in Pigalle where she sang for a pimp in exchange for him not forcing her into prostitution. Her nickname..."  
  
  
Puck didn't know what the hell Kurt was talking about, but he kinda didn't care. For one thing, it wasn't like he ever paid that much attention when the person he was messing around with was talking. Rachel was the biggest example but not the only one. For another, if it got Kurt to calm the fuck down, it could only be good, right? He could pretend to care. Kind of. A little. At least enough for people not to notice. It worked on teachers, anyway.  
  
  
Neither of them noticed Santana weaving her way skillfully through the crowded hall to her target. "Better get used to having Puck around again," Santana said slyly as she crossed behind Finn to stand on the other side of his locker.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, your mom and Kurt's dad are getting married, right?"  
  
"Yeah, but...what's that have to do with Puck?"  
  
She rolled her eyes - sometimes he was too dense for his own good. Really, sometimes he was too dense to even be properly manipulated, which was her real problem. "Look at them," she said, nodding over her shoulder, and Finn did as she said. Puck was leaning back against a locker about halfway down the hall, arms crossed over his chest, as Kurt talked about something that was obviously not of particular interest to him - Finn was fluent in Puck's eyebrows. And even though Kurt still seemed kind of uptight like he usually did, he seemed more like he looked around Mercedes or Tina or someone. Not around Puck, who had kind of tortured him for a couple years.  
  
"When did they start being friends?" he asked, confused.  
  
"They're a lot more than friends," Santana replied snottily. "But at least that part could be kinda hot - at least if I was allowed to join in. But this? With the looking like they actually  _like_  each other and don't want to pummel the other one into the ground? It's just gross."  
  
"What do you mean, they're more than-"  
  
"Oh, wake up, Finn. They're having sex."  
  
"They-...wait,  _what_?"  
  
"Sex. I know you know what that is."  
  
"But Puck is..."  
  
"Straight? Yeah, I thought so too. Apparently your little brother changed his mind." She walked off, more than satisfied with herself, looping her pinkie through Brittany's when she passed the blonde in the hall.  
  
Finn stood at his locker, watching his best friend - ex-best friend - and brother - well, not-quite-stepbrother - talking. Puck shoved himself up off the lockers and walked away without any kind of display of affection. That meant Santana was wrong, right? Except Puck didn't exactly go around making out with Santana in the halls, either, or Quinn even when they were sort-of kind-of dating. So maybe-  
  
Puck was thumbing away on his phone, texting someone - probably Santana, Finn concluded. Maybe Sam or one of the other guys on the team. His hands stilled, then Kurt pulled out his phone and blushed so red his neck actually blended in with his jacket.  
  
Dude. No way.   
  
Puck smirked back at Kurt, then kept walking down the hall with a badass strut.  
  
  
  
Finn grabbed his books and tried to catch up to Kurt, but the top of his fedora kept bobbing just out of range. "Kurt!" he called finally.  
  
  
Kurt turned to face him looking...like he usually did. His cheeks weren't pink anymore - well, no more pink than usual - and the kind of giggly, scandalized expression he'd seen from across the hall was gone. Maybe he really had imagined all of it. "Yes?"  
  
  
"What's going on with you and Puck?"  
  
  
"Nothing," Kurt replied coldly. Kurt seemed as annoyed with him as he usually did these days, Finn concluded. Ever since the Sam thing Kurt had been sending icy glares across the dinner table at him and kind of avoiding him whenever he could, and then it got worse after the duet with Puck...and the fight after that...and okay, so no wonder Kurt looked like he would rather be anywhere else.   
  
  
"Santana said-"  
  
  
"Santana's a conniving, scheming, manipulative Cheerio who would stop at nothing to get what she wants," Kurt stated. "She's probably just mad at Puck and convinced this is the way to get back at him. I'm going to be late."   
  
  
That didn't make any sense. Why would she tell  _him_  something about  _Kurt_  if she was trying to get back at  _Puck_? And why would she pick that to make up? Unless she was trying to make him look bad to the whole school, but why tell him and not someone like Jacob who would make sure word got around?  
  
  
By the time he realized how many holes there were, Kurt was nowhere to be seen and counting his blessings that Finn was dumb enough to fall for the explanation even a little.  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
He should have known something was up when Rachel made a beeline for him as soon as he walked into the choir room. "Puck!" she smiled warmly, wrapping her forearm around his. "I think it's fantastic. Really great. I'm already arranging dinner with you and my dads."  
  
  
"What?"  
  
  
"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised - your reputation does kind of precede you, but I do have excellent gaydar and registered-"  
  
  
"I'm not gay."  
  
  
Rachel looked confused. "But- but aren't you and Kurt-"  
  
  
He knew Kurt didn't want to make it a thing, and he knew Rachel couldn't keep her mouth shut, but she already knew from  _somewhere_  and no one who was already in the choir room seemed shocked by what she was saying. Meaning they probably knew, too.   
  
  
He didn't lie. Not saying something was one thing, but being asked a direct question and lying wasn't cool. "Yeah. So?"  
  
  
"So...you're at least a little," she pointed out. "Or bisexual."  
  
  
"Whatever," he shrugged. It was one guy, he wasn't really gonna label that. He was still a straight stud even if he was dating a dude and not trying to hide it. If other people didn't get it, that wasn't his problem. Of course, knowing Rachel, she was going to try to drag him to some gay parade or something now or think it meant he gave a shit about musicals or shopping or crap like that. He brushed past her to take a seat, and whenever someone looked in his direction he gave them his best 'back the fuck off' glare. It worked for the most part.  
  
  
Until Kurt arrived.  
  
  
His arms were loaded down with books even though he had his bag on his shoulder - probably for a project or something, the guy was kind of a freakish overachiever, which Puck realized could have some advantages if he ever decided to turn in an assignment and wanted Kurt's help. He bet Kurt would totally do it for the right price. Tina rushed over and took some of the books, then gave a little "omigod" kind of gush with a big grin.  
  
  
"What?" Kurt asked. His eyes darted nervously in Puck's direction, and Puck shrugged with a look that said 'sorry, dude, I tried.'  
  
  
"You and-"  
  
  
He stared straight at Mercedes, his eyes narrowing into a glare. Anger was the way to keep from being hurt. Angry was much more effective. Anger, loathing, destructive urges - they worked for Puck, right, and that guy never seemed to be hurt by stuff. And if ever a person deserved to be angry... "You told-"  
  
  
"Only Quinn," she smiled, looking like she was over the moon happy for him.  
  
  
"You  _told_ -"  
  
  
"No one else," she defended. "And Quinn didn't tell anyone."  
  
  
"Then how-"  
  
  
"Oops," Santana said sarcastically from her seat, arms crossed over her fake chest that Kurt had the sudden urge to try to smash.   
  
  
He was so upset he could barely see straight, torn between wanting to flee and wanting to order Mercedes and Santana into a death match since he wasn't allowed to hit a girl. Mercedes would win, he was certain, and have just enough scratches from Santana's kind of crazy nails to make up for her telling someone when he told her expressly not to. He wanted to scream, or cry, or run away and never show his face here again.  
  
  
He had been keeping it secret for a reason and no one cared. No one got it. No one understood how much shit was going to rain down on them now that- Because there was no way that all twelve of them could keep a secret. Especially not with Santana bent on revenge.  
  
  
"Why do you look so upset?" Tina asked, confused.   
  
  
"Yeah, dude, what's the problem?" Sam asked.   
  
  
Finn walked in, smiling, then stopped as he surveyed the room. "What's going on?"  
  
  
"Kurt and Puck have finally confirmed their relationship," Rachel relayed proudly with a grin in Kurt's direction.  
  
  
"What relationship?"  
  
  
"Apparently they're dating," Artie reported.  
  
  
"How long has this been going on?" Finn demanded, fists clenching at his side. As he took a step forward, Kurt practically threw himself into Finn's path. "What did you  _do_  to him?" he demanded, and even though Kurt tried to hide it he looked as if Finn had hit him...but resigned at the same time, like he knew the punch was coming.  
  
  
"He didn't do anything to me," Puck replied from his seat.  
  
  
"You couldn't leave him alone, could you? It's like you're pathologistical or something-"  
  
  
"Pathological," Rachel supplied.  
  
  
"Whatever, you can't just accept that straight guys  _don't like you_ , Kurt! Jeez, what's next, you're gonna try to break up our parents so your dad can date Puck's mom-"  
  
  
"Finn. Back. Off," Kurt said. His voice was tight, straining from the weight of trying to hold back tears, but the punch behind each word was undeniable.  
  
  
Why wasn't someone else stepping in? Kurt wondered. If it were the two guys fighting about one of the girls, wouldn't someone say something? Try and diffuse the situation? ...Maybe not, he realized, they had all kind of let Finn slug Puck over the Quinn thing, though he supposed that one was deserved - at least a little, even if his loyalties were firmly with Puck these days. But everyone in that room knew that if Finn charged forward to get at Puck, there was no way Kurt was holding him back for more than a split second. They acted like they were happy for the two of them, but they didn't care if Finn tried to beat the crap out of Puck?  
  
  
Tried, indeed. Puck would win in a landslide but look like the bad guy doing it.  
  
  
For once, however, he was certain of one thing - it wasn't his status as an honourary girl that was keeping Finn from kicking his ass. The only thing strong enough for that right now was fear of the wrath of Burt Hummel. Kurt supposed that, now that Finn was on his dad's good side again, he probably didn't want to wreck that too badly by punching him...even if it looked like Finn almost wanted to.  
  
  
"What do you care? Not like you wanted him, right?" Puck added with a distinct edge to his voice. "All you ever talk about is how you didn't want anything to do with him but he wouldn't back of." Kurt knew somewhere this was supposed to be defending him, but it wasn't working very well. "Whatever, dude, that's up to you - but you trying to say who he can and can't talk to? If I didn't know better-"  
  
  
"Puck," Kurt warned sharply. There was no way that fight could end well and it made him feel like he might be sick.  
  
  
"How long?" Finn demanded again.  
  
  
"Couple months," Puck replied.  
  
  
"When your dad was- was in the hospital? Jeez, Kurt!"  
  
  
"Like you have any room to talk - you were praying to a stupid sandwich about getting to touch Rachel's boobs!"  
  
  
Well, that got the room's attention diverted for a few seconds. He'd be dealing with the fallout of that from Rachel later, he had no doubt.  
  
  
"What'd you do, go over and-"  
  
  
"Hey,  _I_  went over there," Puck defended.  
  
  
"He drove a car through a plate-glass window to get away from you but you kept-"  
  
  
"Just shut  _up_  already!" Kurt pleaded. "Can't you just be happy I'm not pursuing you and leave me alone?  _Now_  who doesn't know when to back off?"  
  
  
Finn lunged forward, and Kurt squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the onslaught. He hoped his nose would remain intact. Black eyes would heal eventually, but any kind of bone damage would require a rhinoplasty and he didn't want to-  
  
  
He was knocked sideways and fell, but Finn was far more interested in fighting Puck than him. Now people got involved as Mike and Sam pulled Finn backwards.  
  
  
"Woah woah woah - what's going on?"  
  
  
Mr. Schuester's entrance was lamentably late.  
  
  
"This is twice in a week," he said, looking at the two of them. Seeing Kurt on the floor and Finn looking like he was ready to tear Puck limb from limb, he said, "Puck, my office. Finn and Kurt...you guys go home."  
  
  
Unfreakingbelievable. Puck barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes when Mr. Schue could see. Finn freaked out, tried to kick his ass and spent the whole time blaming Kurt for everything, but he got off scott free and he and Kurt were supposed to be buddies...and everyone blamed  _him_  for it.   
  
  
Satisfied that Finn wasn't going to throw himself at Puck again as soon as he was released, Sam let go of the arm he was holding and extended a hand to help Kurt up. Kurt took it and stood, brushing off and straightening his clothes fussily. "Thank you," he said quietly, eyes stinging.  
  
  
"Don't worry about it," Sam said, but the way he looked him in the eye let Kurt know he wasn't just talking about the expression of gratitude.   
  
  
Kurt nodded and turned to Puck. He didn't know what to say - he wanted to apologize for everything, to point out that this is why he wanted to keep everything quiet to begin with, to ask if Puck was okay, to say he wanted desperately any reason to not be at his house on Friday night. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.  
  
  
"Kurt. Let's go," Finn commanded from the doorway.  
  
  
He locked eyes with Puck for a moment, then gathered his books and brushed past Finn. Walking as quickly as he could down the hall, he didn't care that Finn took most of the length of the corridor to catch up. He sniffled hard, trying to keep himself from starting the real waterworks until he was far, far away from his stepbrother.  
  
  
Finn couldn't take a hint. "Hey-"  
  
  
"Don't," Kurt replied sharply. "Don't talk to me."  
  
  
"Look-"  
  
  
"If I could get away with never seeing you again, I would. Unfortunately for both of us, you're about to become family so I'm going to be stuck sitting across the table from you until I can get out of this pathetic excuse of a town in two years. So until then, as long as I'm stuck seeing you at school and glee practice and home? The very, absolute least you can do is not try to talk to me."  
  
  
Finn had the good sense to do what Kurt said - not like he really wanted to talk to him right now, all things considered.  
  
  
They were almost to Finn's house when Kurt spoke again. "I suppose you're going to tell my dad? Or tell your mom who will inevitably tell my dad?" When Finn didn't give a negative response, Kurt shook his head and let out a soft almost laughing sigh. How was this his problem? How had this become his life? Why couldn't he just enjoy the first really good thing to happen to him in a long time?  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
He hadn't been this nervous since the night he came out.  
  
  
He knew logically that it was ridiculous to be this scared, especially since it wasn't like he was going to get thrown out of the house for this - which had been a real, if not entirely legitimate, fear during the other conversation.   
  
  
Under ordinary circumstances, he probably could have even taken the idea of his father's disapproval with a grain of salt; after all, teenagers were supposed to date people of whom their parents didn't approve, right? It was a rite of passage, and while he tended not to invest much in those since he knew he wouldn't get to have quite a few of the standard ones - slowdancing at his prom, wild weekend parties with a big group of friends, a legally-recognized marriage...he was hardly the first person whose father would think they were dating an unworthy punk.  
  
  
But it was deeper than that, and he couldn't ignore it.   
  
  
A year ago, the conversation would have been awkward. It would have involved both of them trying to exchange as few details as possible, but would have ultimately come down to the question "Are you happy?", and when Kurt answered "Yes," that would have been enough. There might have been a demand that the suitor come to dinner for a proper introduction because Burt wanted to make the guy squirm, but all of that would have been standard. Par for the course of being a teenager with a dating life.  
  
  
Now, though...  
  
  
His father's words echoed in his head every time he thought about dating, and he hated that. He hated it so much he wanted to scream - he wanted to hate his dad for putting the words there but he couldn't because this was his dad - the same dad who had torn Finn a new one over one little slur.  
  
  
He knew with absolute certainty his father wouldn't approve - not just because Puck had previously been his tormentor and was kind of a punk that parents never really liked; not even because Puck was the (at least partial) cause of the Finn-and-Quinn breakup.   
  
  
Puck was straight. Even now he maintained that, and Kurt didn't feel a particular need to change that admission - he could handle being the .001 of Puck's Kinsey 1.001, that didn't bother him in the least. But his father would see it differently.  
  
  
He over-spiced the chicken and managed to almost ruin the broccolini because he couldn't pay attention to anything. By the time he finally set dinner on the table, he was a nervous wreck. He just couldn't handle his father saying it was his fault - not this year. Not over this. Not when he finally felt happy and  _normal_  for the first time in- he couldn't even remember.  
  
  
His dad showed up at the table right on time and Kurt sat across from him. Burt took a bite of the chicken and made a face. "There any pepper left in the house after this?"  
  
  
"Sorry, Dad, must've gotten carried away," Kurt replied meekly, staring at the tabletop.  
  
  
"What's with you tonight?"  
  
  
"I...I need to tell you something."  
  
  
Burt expected his son to just say it, so when no words came he offered, "Okay."  
  
"I'm dating someone."  
  
He hadn't intended to say it like that. For one thing, he was afraid of giving his dad another heart attack. For another, it seemed so...it felt like just kind of tossing the information out there, like handing someone their present in a Target bag instead of wrapping it properly. But he couldn't help it, the words just kind of tumbled out.  
  
The look on his father's face was somewhere between surprised and uncomfortable, which was about what Kurt had expected for that portion of the news. "Okay," Burt said slowly. "How long has this been going on?"  
  
"A couple weeks now. But it's been building since...since around the time you were in the hospital."  
  
Burt's eyes narrowed as he thought. "That new kid in glee club you talked about? What was his name? Sean?"  
  
"Sam? No. No, he's dating Quinn Fabray. So, y'know. Not on my team after all, at least...not entirely," he added jokingly. He still had his suspicions that Sam wouldn't be adverse to at the very least a blowjob after a beer or two, possibly more than that, but that wasn't his concern for now - even if Puck's teasing comment about Sam's mouth did stick with him.   
  
What? He was dating, he wasn't blind. Or dead.  
  
"So who is this kid?"  
  
Kurt felt his throat tightening up. Of course that had to be one of the early questions. He couldn't have sufficient time to ease into it, talk about how great Puck was and how happy he was first - of course not. "P-" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Puck."   
  
"That's a name now?"  
  
"Noah Puckerman," Kurt clarified.  
  
"Hang on - the guy Finn was friends with until he stole Finn's girlfriend and got her pregnant? The one who punched him a week ago?"  
  
His father wasn't happy, that much was painfully obvious. "Yes," he stated, hating how much lispier his pronunciation got when he was nervous or upset. "That was over me, actually."  
  
"How was it over you?"  
  
"Finn wanted me to stay away from Puck, and Puck told him it was none of his business."  
  
"Why did Finn care?"  
  
"Because he thought I was hurting Puck's reputation simply by being seen with him. He volunteered to do a duet with me - he was-" Kurt quickly edited himself; no need to tell his dad that the guy he was dating had just gotten out of juvie, even though he knew his father had been no angel as a teen. "-absent during the assignment, and he wanted to-"  
  
"He wanted to or you asked him?" Burt asked dryly.  
  
There it was. The question he'd been dreading in exactly the tone he expected. The same accusation Finn had leveled more directly that afternoon. "He asked me," Kurt stated firmly. "Every step of the way,  _he_  asked  _me_."  
  
"Why are you upset?"  
  
"Because I'm sick of everyone acting like I'm some kind of predator for daring to like someone! He came on to me, and I kept apologizing to him for it. I was apologizing to him practically every time I kissed him-" His father grimaced "-because I was so convinced that I was making up signs in my head. You and Finn both, you said everything last year was my fault for having a crush and not fighting to hide it even though he never said no. He never told me to back off, that I was making him uncomfortable - not once." He could feel his eyes stinging, and his voice was starting to rise to the point where it sounded almost like he was speaking from the falsetto break. "And because of that I felt like everything I thought I saw with Puck, everything he asked me- like I must have forced him into it somehow. Like I was doing something unfair to  _him_  by being willing to accept his advances."  
  
"Of course it's fine to accept someone's advances - if you wanna, y'know, date them or something," Burt said slowly. "What's this about, kid? Because I remember talking about you and what you were doing to Finn last year, but-"  
  
"I didn't do anything to him!" Kurt exploded. "That's the entire point. I didn't do anything to Finn, and I'm not doing anything to him now but he still-" He couldn't have this fight now. He couldn't recount the afternoon and listen to all the ways his dad would turn that into his fault, too. "I-...I'm sorry, Dad, I need to go for awhile, I can't-"  
  
"Hey." The firm voice was accompanied by a hand on his shoulder. "Sit down." It was the voice that meant he had no patience for dramatics tonight, and Kurt couldn't help but feel like the sullen tween he had avoided for the most part. "What I said was that you needed to lay off the straight guys. Guys like Finn, y'know, they don't know how to take a guy hitting on them. Especially if they're a halfway decent kid - he didn't want to be a jerk to you so he didn't really say anything, then he snapped."  
  
He couldn't believe it. His father was seriously explaining away that entire night. "Unfreakingreal," he mumbled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. Calling the room 'faggy' because he had made it was seriously now his fault because he had been faggy in Finn's general direction six months before.  
  
"Well, we gotta talk about this sometime. He was uncomfortable 'cause you kept after him - not saying what he did was right, but he-"  
  
"Yes you are," Kurt whispered, closing his eyes. He wanted his dad back -  _his_  dad, the one who had said Finn using that word was the equivalent of calling Becky a retard or calling Mercedes the n-word. The dad who had fought for him to get to sing Defying Gravity and hugged him after the Rose's Turn catharsis. "You're saying he did it because I made him uncomfortable, but that he was right to be uncomfortable. Because being gay is fine as long as I'm gay far, far away from him, like that's some consolation. Like the fact that he didn't say it sooner means he's tolerant?" He shook his head. "He and Puck got into a fight again today, but he wouldn't tell you or Carole that part. I had to stand between them and he just kept asking what I'd done to Puck and for how long. He keeps making it my problem that I'm dating someone who's not him while making it painfully clear he would never want to date me and I made him uncomfortable when I liked him."  
  
"Why'd he ask what you did to Puck? Or...don't I want to know?"  
  
Kurt sighed and drew in a deep breath before responding, "Puck's straight."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
"He's straight, he dates women - a lot of women, he's the resident McSteamy. Somehow he likes me, I...I don't know why, but he does. He doesn't think I'm toxic. But because of Finn-" 'and you,' he added silently "-I feel like I am."  
  
"Of course you're not toxic." Burt shifted. "Look, I don't get what this is, and I don't really know how to have this conversation. I don't wanna make it sound like I think you're taking advantage of this guy - he sounds like he can more than hold his own - but I dunno about you dating straight guys."  
  
"Well, you're my father and there aren't any gay men in town who would be of an appropriate age to try and convert you," Kurt said bitterly.  
  
"That's not what I meant, stop taking everything that way. I'm worried about you. At least another guy who's, y'know."  
  
"Gay."  
  
"Yeah. At least another guy who's gay, if he breaks up with you, it's not gonna be because he gets spooked the first time someone calls him a homo," Burt said, then added, "Not that every guy you date's gonna break up with you or something."  
  
"I tried to warn him. He maintains he doesn't care."  
  
Burt studied his son carefully. He looked so...hopeless. Not even depressed, just kind of like he felt like nothing was ever going to change for the better. Burt didn't like that look - it made him nervous. "I hope it stays that way," he offered, but he wasn't reassured by the weak smile Kurt cast in his direction.  
  
He didn't want his son getting hurt, was all he'd been trying to say. Finn freaking out and throwing a few slurs around hurt some feelings, but no one's life was in danger. The wrong kid suddenly got uncomfortable with Kurt being that close, or with everyone thinking he and Kurt were that close, and Kurt could end up in the hospital or worse. He was never sure if his son got how real a possibility that was - he knew Kurt hid some of the stuff at school from him, but the way his kid walked around without any hesitation, no inclination to hide...no way he could get the gravity of it all and still be that self-assured and in-your-face about everything, especially when it came to having a crush on a straight guy.  
  
Or his son was a lot fucking braver than he realized.  
  
"Hey." Kurt looked over at him. "He make you happy?"  
  
A wistful look passed over Kurt's face, and the red-rimmed eyes filled with tears that didn't break. His lip quivered as he whispered, "Yes."  
  
That was all he wanted. For his kid to be happy and safe. All any parent would want - it was just harder for him to ensure that than it was for most parents in Lima.  
  
He stood and put his plate in the sink, then clasped Kurt's shoulder. Kurt's small, soft hand found its way on top and twitched, like he was trying not to cling to his father's hand. After a moment, Burt left without another word. He'd said all he needed to.  
  
* * * * *  
  
By the time he arrived at school the next morning, Kurt was so emotionally drained that he wasn't entirely sure he hadn't dreamt the entire thing. He wasn't actually sure he wasn't still asleep.  
  
"Hey." Puck sounded concerned as he passed him in the hall. "You okay?"  
  
"Yes," Kurt replied.  
  
"I sent you like a hundred messages."  
  
"I'm sorry. Long night."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I told my dad we're dating."  
  
It was the first time either of them had used the d-word in each other's presence. There was a hesitation in the air as each of them waited for the other to object or something. When neither said anything, Puck asked, "And?"  
  
"Okay. I think." Kurt still didn't understand what had changed his father's tone, why it had suddenly gone from defending Finn to just wanting him to be happy, but he wasn't complaining.  
  
"Cool."  
  
"And you?" Kurt asked. "How much trouble are you in for not doing what you didn't do?"  
  
"None," Puck replied.  
  
"We told Mr. Schue what actually happened," Quinn said as she walked over, Sam's arm around her shoulders.  
  
"Yeah. I don't think he would've believed just the two of us for some reason, but once everyone except Santana started speaking up he kinda figured we didn't all have time to conspire against Finn."  
  
"Hey you two," Mercedes grinned as she passed. He was still pissed at her for telling anyone - even Quinn - but he was too drained to protest.   
  
"So what was Finn's deal, anyway?" Artie asked as he wheeled up.  
  
Kurt and Puck exchanged a look. Neither of them could go into it now - possibly not ever, but definitely not right then.   
  
Kurt started to excuse himself to his own locker, but Puck's fingers found their way to his beltloop. "What have I told you about-" the smirk on Puck's face let him know that Puck knew exactly what he was doing. Stubborn pain in the ass.   
  
He wasn't a PDA kind of guy. Mostly people didn't want to be seen in public with him anyway. But Puck felt kind of like they should do something, a kind of 'fuck you' to Santana and her attempted blackmail or whatever. The fact that it would make Finn's blood boil if he saw it was kind of an added bonus, though not as satisfying as it might have otherwise been.   
  
After dragging Kurt by the beltloop to where he wanted him, Puck leaned forward. His hips pinned the smaller boy against the locker, and he rested his weight on his left forearm against the locker while his right hand lay in a relatively non-erogenous area of Kurt's thigh. Kurt looked small and nervous beneath him, almost more nervous than before the first time they fucked - though the cupcakes might have accounted for that. He looked like this was where things really started or some sappy shit like that, like this was a big moment he wasn't sure he was ready for.  
  
Puck leaned down and gave him a deep kiss, feeling Kurt practically melt against him. One hand wrapped around his waist while the other found its way to his bicep, and neither one could ignore the "awwww"s from the girls - especially Mercedes. She was pretty loud.  
  
Puck grinned as he pulled back-  
  
-just in time for the ecto-green slushie to slam into his face. The icy substance dripped down his neck, down the back of his shirt, but he did his best to keep from shivering or showing that he cared.  
  
It was Sam who spoke first:  
  
"Begun, the slushie war has."


End file.
